Moonbeam - A Robin De Noir Story (The Secret of Moonacre)

CHAPTER 4

Constance staggered back into her seat, her hands shaking slightly. Maria and Miss Heliotrope clutched each other tightly shrinking into the corner. Her governess had used her parasol to hit their attackers but some of them had reached their bags causing the contents within them to be spread across the carriage floor. Maria had used the sharp needle from her sewing set to prick anyone who got too close. The women sat in utter shock for a few moments before Constance spoke. "Who were they? What do you think they wanted?" the questions fell from her lips quickly in her state of panic.

"I'm not sure my dear, but are you both alright? What dreadful behaviour. I am sure Sir Benjamin, your Uncle, will resolve the matter girls. I have the confidence to say we shall not have to worry about facing them again under his protection." The girls nodded in response to her query on their welfare but could not muster up any words.

Constance turned her attention once again to the open carriage window. She had no inkling of the time, but she knew it was getting late as the dark evening clouds began to loom over the valley. "How long do you think we have left?" Her question was aimed at her sister as a tactic to take her mind off of the event that just occurred. "I'm not sure, I'm hoping it is not much longer". Her elder sister agreed. "I can assure you Maria that as soon as we arrive and are directed to our rooms it will not be long before I fall asleep. I am utterly exhausted from doing absolutely nothing the entire day."

"Nothing! You call that nothing! Why do we have to go to the country anyway? Why could our Uncle not move to the city?" Poor Maria was so naive and ridiculously stubborn. "Because his own property is in Moonacre. Why should he move for the sake of your feelings? Besides, you have not even seen the house yet, perhaps you will like it?"

"I doubt that very much." She muttered with her arms crossed. Her sister was known for her headstrong behaviour and it took her a long time to get out of her moods. Today would be different though. Her eyes locked on something outside, and she began to lean against the windowpane with her mouth slightly agape in awe. "Perhaps you were right Constance, maybe I will like this place."

Had they arrived? Constance moved forward in the soft seat and gazed out the window. Behind the shrubbery, she caught glimpse of a large gothic-style mansion. Its main structure was a stunning white colour, not the hue she hated on her old ceiling back in the city but an off white shade that glistened in the fading light. The gothic style of the house meant that there were several turrets, some large and others small, but the roofs all shared the same moonlight blue and grey colour.

The man driving the carriage directed the horses to the right as we entered the main courtyard of the mansion. He pulled the reigns signalling the horses to stop before jumping off the high seat he had been on and stretching. He approached the door with heavy footsteps and opened the door nodding to us. "Ladies." He extended his left arm to the entrance hall and the three of us could not help being slightly nervous.

Miss Heliotrope bravely volunteered to get out first. Her hands found the parasol she had thrown to the floor before making her way out. She failed in keeping her grace as she slipped down the step before meeting the ground.

"Come along Constance, you first." The middle-aged woman extended her hand to the elder of the two girls who gladly accepted the help. Thankfully, she managed to keep her dignity as her feet met the untidy stone floor. Maria was next, she too accepted their governess' hand.

"Welcome to Moonacre." A deep manly voice echoed around the under covered entrance they stood in. All three of them looked up where they saw the silhouette of a man whose arms were placed behind his back. He did not linger there any longer. He slowly made his way down the steps and into the fading light.

As he approached Constance studied the man intently. It was no doubt her Uncle, she knew that straight away from the specific winter grey eyes with specks of blue around the iris. His dark hair was shaped into small curls at the ends, much like her fathers did. He was a few years younger than their father, but his tired eyes made him look the same age.